Big Girls Don't Cry
by RainneCassidy
Summary: What's a girl to do when the love of her life just left for the summer with his ex-wife on his arm? Season 2 hiatus fic.  Rated for mild language and one drug reference.
1. Chapter 1

The first week after Castle left was almost like it was before he came. Almost. Esposito and Ryan, playing Halo on Friday evening at Esposito's apartment, agreed that this was true. The 'almost' was Ryan's addition.

"She's a lot more… focused?" Ryan said, contemplating the shot he wanted to take. "Like she's hiding behind the job."

"That's what she does, bro," Esposito replied, taking his own shot. "She becomes the job so she doesn't have to be anything else."

"That's probably not healthy," Ryan commented.

Esposito had to agree.

The second week after Castle left was a little more difficult. Beckett was really throwing herself into the job and getting a bit snappish, and Castle himself had yet to appear on XBOX Live so that Ryan or Esposito could ask him what the hell his problem was and why he didn't bring his sorry ass back to the city and fix things with her. They briefly discussed calling him but decided the situation wasn't quite that dire (yet) and decided to wait.

The third week after Castle left was pretty much an unmitigated disaster. They closed a case on Monday – one of Esposito's favorites; as he referred to it, a "Jack shot Jill over Bill" – and took Tuesday off since they'd had to work the weekend. On Wednesday they came back and cleared out the paperwork. On Thursday they picked up another case, one of the weird ones, and Esposito and Ryan kept making eye contact over the dismembered corpse and thinking about all the quips and cracks Castle would have been making if he'd been there.

It was fairly obvious that Beckett was thinking the same things they were – her lips tightened every time there was an obvious opening for Castle to make a joke or an inappropriate comment or even get excited about some new piece of evidence and the vein on the left side of her forehead didn't stop standing out for three days. During those three days, she also did not go home; she passed out at her desk twice and once on the break room couch. Late Sunday night, though, the case finally cracked wide open, and they went after their killer.

The takedown went bad from the start; there were more people in the apartment than the detectives expected and one of them was a small child. The killer holed himself up in the bathroom with the little boy, who was wailing at the top of his lungs in fear, and Beckett, who was already near the end of her tether, was having to play hostage negotiator. Still, Esposito was just thinking they might all get out of there in one piece when the killer, frustrated with the child's frightened cries, slapped the boy so hard it was audible out in the hallway. The sound of that blow was the sound of Beckett snapping, and she drew her gun and charged, kicking the bathroom door in before either Esposito or Ryan could stop her.

Everything that happened after that would remain a blur in Esposito's memory, except for the part where Ryan took the terrified child out of the room to his mother while Esposito shoved the killer's corpse out of the way and pulled his polo shirt off, trying to stanch the blood pouring out of the bullet hole in Beckett's right shoulder.

There was never any question of Beckett dying – paramedics were already on the scene, having been summoned along with backup when the killer had locked himself and the child in the bathroom – so all Esposito really had to do was keep her from bleeding out too much before the guys with the actual medical equipment could get in there and take care of her. It didn't matter; he still had her blood all over his hands and ruining his shirt and her eyes staring up at him, full of pain and something like confusion. What had the tears standing in his eyes as she was loaded onto the gurney and taken away was the words she whispered as he knelt over her: _"What did I do wrong?"_

Those words had nothing to do with the wound in her shoulder, and both of them knew it.

She was in the hospital for the entirety of the fourth week after Castle left, sleeping too much and not eating nearly enough. When she was finally released, she showed up at the precinct with her arm still in a sling and asked the captain when she could expect to have her badge and gun back. Esposito and Ryan pretended not to eavesdrop as the captain leaned back in his chair and studied her across the desk.

Montgomery was quiet for a long time, long enough to make Beckett nervous, before he finally spoke. "IA's investigation is complete," he told her. "Technically, you can have it back after you get your medical release and your mandatory psych eval."

"Thank you," she said, starting to rise from her chair.

"I'm not done. Sit down, Detective."

When Montgomery used that tone, people listened. Kate sat back down, pale, and swallowed hard. "Yes, sir."

Montgomery leaned forward, folding his hands on his desk. "Beckett," he said gently, "you're a mess. I know why, and so do you. Nobody blames you for being a mess. Anybody would be. But right now, you're a liability. I want you to take some time."

"I don't have any time, sir. I used all my vacation looking for a new apartment."

"I'm aware of that," Montgomery replied. "However, since your apartment was destroyed as a direct result of a case you were working at the time, the department has seen fit to return the vacation days you used and consider that time as paid departmental leave." He opened a file that was lying on the side of his desk. "So as of right now, you have a minimum of six weeks' paid medical leave and four weeks of untaken vacation time. Go home. Come back and see me in eight weeks and we'll talk about your badge and gun."

She stared at him in shock and horror. "Eight weeks?"

He picked up a pen. "If you don't want me to change that to ten, you'll say 'yes, sir' and you'll walk out of here."

He very rarely took that tone with anyone, much less her, and Beckett knew when she was beaten. She swallowed hard. "Yes, sir," she whispered. Then she stood and made her way out of the office, closing the door softly behind her.

She stood in front of the door for a long moment, her eyes unfocused, and Esposito and Ryan watched her with some concern. Then someone's desk phone rang, startling her out of whatever place she had gone. She looked around the bullpen as though she'd never seen it before. Her eyes rested on her partners for just a moment, and she saw on their faces that they knew – they had heard. She swallowed hard again and, without a word, turned and left the precinct.

Esposito looked across the desk at Ryan. "This is not good, bro."

"No," Ryan agreed, watching her disappear into the elevator. "No, it's not."

Kate Beckett hid in her apartment for the first few days of her enforced leave and didn't even try to convince herself that she was doing anything else. She ordered food in, checked the peephole before answering the door, and screened every phone call, only taking calls from her family and non-work friends. During that entire span of days, she remained in her pajamas, mostly curled up in the corner of her comfy new couch, staring at whatever show happened to be on the screen of her shiny new television. She resolutely avoided even looking at her bookshelf because, while there were plenty of other authors' works there that she could have escaped into, the complete Castle collection on the top shelf – replenished from the author's own stock, and every one of them painstakingly inscribed and autographed – would be where her eyes would stray every time. So she didn't look.

On the evening of the fourth day, though, when she opened the door to accept her dinner delivery, Lanie Parish stepped into sight from where she had been standing against the wall, out of view of the peephole. The delivery boy gave her an apologetic look. "Sorry, Miss Beckett," he said. "She made me do it."

"It was bound to happen," Kate replied philosophically. She tipped the kid decently and then stepped aside, allowing Lanie entry into the apartment.

Lanie glared at her. "When is the last time you washed your hair?"

"Can't get my arms up," Kate replied. "Hungry?"

"Not enough to sit down with the greasy unwashed. Go change into something you don't mind getting wet. And get something out for me, too." She took the food from Kate, putting it in the oven to keep warm.

Sighing, Kate submitted gracefully to the inevitable, changing into a ratty old tee shirt and a pair of paint-splattered shorts. Lanie changed into the shirt and shorts Kate took out for her, then came into the bathroom with a roll of Saran wrap in her hand which she used to carefully cover Kate's shoulder from her neck to the middle of her bicep, and then she turned the shower on. "Get in."

Kate got in.

Lanie helped her kneel down in the spray, necessary since she was so much shorter than Kate, and then worked on Kate's hair, shampooing and conditioning it carefully and without talking. Kate found herself relaxing under Lanie's ministrations, some of the tension of the last few weeks draining out of her shoulders and back. When Lanie was done, she helped Kate stand, stepped out of the shower and pulled the curtain shut. "You can handle the rest yourself, I'm sure."

Kate could, and did. By the time she was done, Lanie had dried herself off and put her own clothes back on, leaving her borrowed wet things well wrung out on the bathroom counter. Kate hung them over the shower curtain rod with her own wet things and pulled on jeans and a tank top, then came back out into the living area to find her food already waiting on a plate for her. "Eat," Lanie said, and Kate ate.

Lanie leaned against the counter, watching Beckett eat chicken fried rice and poking at a container of sweet and sour pork. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really," Kate replied honestly. "I'm trying really hard not to even think about it."

"So what are you gonna do, just sit around here in this apartment for the next two months, watching Judge Judy and letting the takeout boys snicker about your greasy hair?"

"Well, what am I supposed to do, Lanie? I'm on medical leave. I'm not even allowed to show up at the precinct and do desk work."

"Why don't you go see your dad for awhile?"

"Because he's in East Hampton."

"Ah." Lanie understood that immediately. For all that the Hamptons were a busy, tourist-filled area at that time of year, they were also essentially a small community. If Kate went to her dad's, there was an extremely high chance of running into Castle there. It was out of the question. She considered the problem. "Well, don't you have some friends you could go see somewhere else?"

"Most of my high school friends are still in the city, and they all work," Kate replied. "As do my cousins." Then she paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face.

Lanie raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Not all my cousins." She glanced at the clock, then reached for her cell phone, dialing a number from the address book. Lanie moved closer to hear.

The phone rang for a long moment and, just when Lanie was thinking it would go to voice mail, the line clicked and was picked up. A breathless voice spoke into the receiver over the sound of a frantic dog barking. _"Kate! Shut up, dog. Hey, Kate!"_

Kate smiled. "Hey, Kim, how's it going?"

"_Hating life, how about you? Mom said something about you being hurt on the job?"_

"Yeah, actually, I got shot in the shoulder."

"_Oh, my God! Are you okay?"_

"I will be, eventually. I'm on medical leave and in a sling right now, though." She shrugged slightly. "Could be worse."

"_Ain't that the truth. How long are you on leave?"_

"Eight weeks, minimum."

"_That is a _long_ vacation. Lucky bitch. Whatcha gonna do with all that time off?"_

"Well," Kate said, drawing out the word just a bit, "actually, I was thinking of coming to see you. Are you busy?"

"_I'm writing my doctoral dissertation, Kate; I'm busier than a one-armed man in a paper-hanging contest. When will you be here? I'll get the books off the guest bed."_

Kate laughed. "Probably a couple of days; I'll need to arrange a flight."

"_Awesome. Call me with your flight info and I'll pick you up at the airport."_ There was a pause, and then Kim's voice came back again, softer. _"I'm glad you're okay, Kate. And I'm glad you're coming."_

"Me, too," Kate replied, her voice equally soft. They said their goodbyes and Kate hung up, then looked up at Lanie. "Do not tell _anyone_ where I'm going."

"Girl," Lanie replied, "I couldn't if I wanted to. Who the hell is Kim?"

Kate smiled. "Kim is my cousin, Kimberly Wilder; my mom's brother's daughter. We mostly grew up together; she's older than me by a few months. She's working on her Ph.D. in cultural anthropology at the University of Tennessee in Knoxville."

Lanie raised an eyebrow. "You're going to Tennessee?"

Kate shrugged. "Why not?"

"Hm. Better you than me," Lanie replied. "Just leave me the contact info so I can find you if I need to."

Kate nodded, flipping the phone open again and retrieving a notepad to transcribe the information on. "This is her address and her phone number if you need it."

Lanie tucked the paper into her pocket. "Thanks." She reached out and laid one hand on Kate's. "You sure you're gonna be okay?"

"No," Kate admitted. "But it can't get much worse, so at least I've got that going for me."

It was Friday of the fifth week after Castle left when Kate's flight touched down in Knoxville and she gratefully escaped the confines of the airplane, her eyes scanning the crowd for her cousin's familiar face. Kim stood under the Delta sign on the other side of the security checkpoint, dressed in a green tank top, blue jeans and black flip-flops, her shaggy sandy-blonde hair hanging in her eyes. She raised one long arm and waved at Kate, who waved back and started in her direction.

They hugged tightly as soon as Kate crossed the checkpoint line and then Kim wrapped a long arm around Kate. "Baggage claim?"

Kate nodded. "Hopefully they haven't lost my suitcase."

"Well, if they did, there are shops here. It's the boondocks, but it's not _that_ bad." The two cousins shared a laugh as Kim led Kate toward the baggage claim carrel. Twenty minutes later, they were stepping out of the airport and into the bright sun of an unseasonably cool Tennessee summer.

Kate blinked. "Wow, I was expecting a hundred percent humidity and eighty degrees."

"You'd have had it if you were here this time last year," Kim replied. "It's been bizarrely cold this year. I wouldn't believe it was actually summer if not for the fact that the campus library is oddly empty of freshmen." She led Kate toward the parking garage. "You hungry?"

"Starving," Kate replied, and was surprised to realize that it was true. For the first time since Castle had gone, his arm around Gina, she actually was hungry. It must be Tennessee, she decided.

"Cool. How's steak sound?" 

"Delicious."

Kim drove to a place called the Downtown Grill and Brewery which, she advised her cousin, brewed their own beer on-site. "It's excellent stuff, too," Kim confided. Then she paused. "Can you have alcohol? With your painkillers, I mean?"

Kate nodded. "Not a lot, but I can have a couple. I'm only taking the pills at night when I can't sleep."

"Good. Those things are bad for you anyway."

Over dinner, at Kate's insistence, Kim told her all about her dissertation, which was on gender, race and politics in the post-Reconstruction South. It had never been hard to get Kim going on a topic that interested her, and this was no different; with a few well-placed questions and a rapt expression, Kate kept her cousin talking about the paper through the entire meal, which saved Kate the trouble of having to come up with anything to say. It helped that the topic was actually interesting and that Kim was able to discuss it mostly in layman's terms, since Kate's primary interest before going into criminal justice had been science.

They argued over the check when it arrived, and Kim won by the simple expedient of getting up and walking over to the waitress with her credit card while Kate, who had stubbornly grabbed the ticket when it arrived, was still digging in her purse for her wallet. Kate glared at her cousin when Kim sauntered back to the table. "Dinner tomorrow is on me," she said in a tone that brooked no argument.

"Katie, your I'm-the-boss voice hasn't worked on me since we were eight." Kim grinned. "Come on, let's get out of here. You're probably exhausted and I have to do more research before I can call today done."

There was no television in Kim's tiny apartment, but the second bedroom was crammed with books of many flavors. Kate breathed a sigh of relief when she discovered that the mystery genre was in no way represented – Kim was a horror, fantasy and science fiction nut. Her shelves were full of titles by names like Stephen King and Marion Zimmer Bradley, many of which Kate was totally unfamiliar with. She selected a title at random and wandered out into the living room, only to be sent back again because she'd picked the third book of a series and would be lost if she didn't start at the beginning.

She settled herself on the sofa, an afghan across her lap and Kim's super-friendly silver Affenpinscher, Cujo, curling up at her feet. Kim herself was seated at the huge desk that took up half the room, her computer on one side of her and stacks of books and papers all around. She called up iTunes on the computer, putting on a playlist of soothing, mostly instrumental music, and went to work while Kate flipped the book open and started to read.

It was long past dark when Kim finally stretched, her spine crackling. "That's it. I've had all of this I can take for one night." She turned in her chair to face her cousin. "Wanna watch a movie or something, or are you bushed after your trip?"

Kate considered, then yawned. "Actually, I am pretty tired."

"Sure, sure. Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll go do something fun."

Kate smiled. "I like the sound of that. I could use some fun."

With the windows cracked open to the cool Tennessee evening and Cujo resting, warm and heavy, on her stomach, Kate slept soundly that night for the first time in five weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

On Saturday of the sixth week since he had left the city, Castle finally felt that he had made sufficient progress on his book that he could take a morning off. He did so with great relish, sleeping obscenely late and then, a little after one o'clock, wandering into the family room in his boxers to turn on the XBOX. The house was blessedly quiet, only the sound of the surf and seagulls rolling in through the open windows, and he relaxed onto the sofa with a sigh, pulling on his headset and scrolling down his friends list.

He paused over one name. Ryan and Esposito were playing Halo. Excellent! He smiled. He hadn't spoken to anyone from the city since coming to the Hamptons, and this would be a great chance to catch up on whatever he was missing. He couldn't wait to hear about what awesome cases he'd missed out on, and to find out how they and Lanie and the Captain and… everyone… were doing.

He grimaced slightly at the thought that he was going to be forced to hear about how happy Beckett and Schlemming were, but there was no help for it. And even if he would rather not hear about the robbery detective who'd ruined all his chances, he did want to hear about Beckett. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable, and joined their in-progress game.

When he materialized on the playing field, he couldn't believe his luck; Esposito was located just in sight, and Castle took him out with a headshot before Esposito could move. "Whoa," he crowed into his headset. "Might want to take better cover there next time, Target."

There was a long silence – long enough to make Castle nervous. "Uh… Esposito? Ryan?"

"Yeah." Both men answered at the same time, their voices identically flat.

Castle paused, confused. "Is… something wrong?"

"Nah, man, why would anything be wrong?" Esposito replied in that same flat voice.

"'Course not," Ryan agreed, also flat. "Everything's fine here."

"O…kay…" Castle said, staring at the television screen, thoroughly confused.

"So, how's the Hamptons?" Ryan finally asked.

His brow furrowed, Castle replied, "Quiet. I've been getting a lot of writing done."

"Yeah. Writing." Esposito's sarcasm was nearly biting. "That's what the kids are calling it these days, right?"

"Yeah, I bet you're getting a lot of writing done with that blonde chick hanging all over your arm," Ryan agreed.

"Actually, Gina's not here," Castle admitted. What was with the two of them? "I made it almost ten days with her in the house before I remembered why we got divorced in the first place. I've been by myself for over four weeks."

There was another long pause before Ryan spoke again. "Dude. Seriously?"

"Seriously. Guys, what is going on with you two?"

Esposito answered this time. "I'm… not sure we can really talk about it right now, bro."

And suddenly, Castle felt himself pale. "What the hell is going on, guys? What's going on? Is it Beckett? Is she okay?"

The pause that followed his question seemed to go on forever before Esposito finally answered. "We don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Castle jumped to his feet, headset still on, and ran for the bedroom, grabbing the first clothes he could find to pull on. "What the hell is going on down there?"

"Well," Ryan finally said, "She got shot a couple weeks ago."

"_WHAT?_" Castle practically screamed into the headset. "She got _shot_ and you didn't call me?"

"Dude!" Esposito shouted back. "She freaking dumped Demming so she could hook up with you, and you took off to the freaking Hamptons with your freaking bimbo ex-wife that you _hate_. Why the hell should we have called you?"

Castle froze in mid-motion, halfway into his shirt. "She… what?"

"She broke up with Demming," Ryan reiterated. "When she pulled you out of the party, that's what she was gonna tell you. But then Gina showed up and you… you ripped her heart out, man."

Castle sat down on the side of the bed. "I didn't know," he said softly.

"Yeah," Esposito replied. "We know."

Castle finished pulling his shirt on. "Where is she?" he asked finally. "What hospital is she in?"

"She's not in the hospital," Ryan told him. "She was in for a week, but it was a through-and-through to the shoulder so once they got her stitched up and dealt with the blood loss, they released her."

"All right. I'll go to her apartment." Castle began throwing things into his bag.

"Don't bother," Esposito's voice cut him off. "She's not there. Hasn't been in days."

Castle fell to the side of the bed again. "Where is she?"

"That's what we're trying to tell you," Ryan explained patiently. "We don't know. She's just gone."

Three hours later, Castle was standing in the middle of the 12th Precinct, digging through Kate's desk looking for clues. Unfortunately, all he found besides her usual paperwork and office supplies was half a bag of gummi bears, a broken pair of sunglasses, Kate's spare makeup kit, and a well-worn paperback copy of _Storm Rising_. He shut the last drawer with a bang of frustration. "Fine," he murmured to himself. "I'll go to her apartment."

"No, you won't."

Castle spun around. "Lanie!"

"Uh-uh, you do not get to _Lanie_ me." She folded her arms, staring him down. "How could you do that to her?"

"I thought that was what she wanted!" Seeing Lanie's disbelieving look, he dropped himself into his usual chair. "Look. I asked her to come up to the Hamptons with me. Just for the weekend. First she lied to me and said she had to work, then I found out she actually had out-of-town plans with Demming. She gave me this speech about how she didn't want things to be awkward between us now that she was with Tom." He said the name with a contemptuous toss of his head. "She wanted me to move on so she could be with him, so I did. How was I supposed to know she was going to change her mind that night?"

Lanie paused, examining his logic, and found that what he said actually kind of made sense. It just figured that this would happen to the two of them. "Have you called her yet?" she asked gently.

"Of course I've called her. I did nothing on the trip back here besides call her. She won't answer."

Lanie briefly considered the notion of making a call herself, but discarded the idea. This one they were going to have to work out for themselves. She shook her head. "Go home, Castle. You're exhausted. Get some rest. I'll come by in the morning and we'll talk about what you ought to do."

"In the morning? No. No, I need to find her now." He stood, turning toward the elevator. "I'm going to her apartment."

"You do, it's just gonna make things worse," Lanie pointed out. "You think she wants you rummaging through her sock drawer while she's not there?"

He turned back to her, and she felt pity fill her heart. She'd never seen a man look so desperate and so defeated at the same time. "Lanie, I don't know what else to do," he whispered.

"Go home," she repeated, her tone kind. "Keep trying to call her. Maybe she'll get so tired of the phone ringing that she'll pick up. I'll come by tomorrow and we'll talk."

He sighed, his shoulders slumping. "All right." He turned again and left.

Lanie rolled her eyes heavenward. "Lord, look out for fools like Castle and Beckett, would you?"

The first week Kate spent with her cousin was relatively uneventful. Kim hadn't been lying about being busy – in addition to all her research, she was also teaching two summer classes – and so Kate found herself spending quite a bit of time either curled up on the couch with Cujo and one of Kim's fantasy novels or lurking in the back of a classroom, fascinated by the topics of Kim's lectures. With so many distractions, it was easy for her to shut off the part of her brain that encompassed New York and everything related thereto. The Saturday following that week, though, was entirely different.

Kim dragged Kate out of bed early, squealing about monkeys. Once Kate was finally washed and dressed – an accomplishment that involved her bending over the kitchen sink while Kim washed her hair, since there wasn't room enough for both of them in Kim's tiny compartment shower – Kate found herself being dragged out into the sunlight again and whisked across town.

They got breakfast at a Shoney's, where Kate was only slightly horrified to find chicken nuggets and some kind of rice on the breakfast buffet. After breakfast, though, Kate learned why it was that Kim was going on and on about monkeys: she had decided to take Kate to the zoo.

"Really? The zoo?" Kate laughed at her cousin as they paid their admission fees. "You're like a big kid, Kim."

"I love the zoo," Kim replied. "Here's the thing." She took Kate's hand, drawing her to the side of a nearby enclosure. Inside, several small tiger cubs played fiercely under their mother's protective eye. "I spend all day, every day, in books reading and in classrooms teaching about people and their motivations for doing things. This event or that event is so much more complicated when you consider the ramifications of the blah blah blah that happened just before, when the blah blah did blah. You know? But animals…" Kim paused, leaning against a railing that was clearly marked _Do not lean on railing._ "Animals are simple. They have two motivations: food and reproduction. They don't have political leanings, they're not racist or sexist, they don't do petty things to get back at their exes, they don't have any of that extraneous bullshit that we have, and we think we're so _evolved_. Animals just… are. And that's enough for them."

Kate considered Kim's words as she watched the baby tigers play. They were so innocent, pouncing and tussling and squalling, and Kate found herself smiling as she watched them for the first time in weeks. She looked up to find Kim watching her, grinning back. "See?" Her cousin grabbed her hand again. "Now come _on_, I want to see the monkeys!"

They were just sitting down to a late lunch at a café in downtown Knoxville when Kate's cell phone started ringing. She checked the screen and felt her heart clench. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the immediate vicinity when she saw Castle's name on her caller ID. Struggling for breath, she silenced the ringer and pushed the phone back into her pocket. A moment later, it rang again. She silenced it again. It rang a third time.

By the seventh call, Kim was looking at Kate with a mixture of confusion and amusement. "Why don't you just answer it?"

"Because if I never talk to him again, it'll be too soon," Kate replied honestly. She looked down at the Caesar salad which had seemed so appetizing just minutes ago, poking it listlessly with her fork.

"Aha," Kim said softly. "And now we get to the reason behind your sudden desire to see east Tennessee. What's his name?"

"Rick," Kate confessed.

"Rick? Castle? The writer guy?"

Kate nodded. "That's the one."

"But I thought Mom said you were seeing some guy named Tom."

"I was."

Kim studied her cousin for a long moment before leaning back in her chair. "I think maybe you'd better start at the beginning. And eat; you're still too thin."

The story took longer than anticipated, because Kate did start at the beginning: with the case that had brought her together with Castle for the first time. By the time Kate got to Castle's nosing into her mother's murder, a revelation that brought an indignant gasp from Kim, they had finished their lunch and were strolling down the street. When Demming came into the story, they were seating themselves under the gazebo in Fountain City Park. And when Kate finally choked out what had happened on that last, horrible night, Kim reached out and wrapped her arms around her cousin, holding Kate tightly as she finally cried the desperate, painful tears she'd been holding inside for almost six weeks.

Without knowing what else to do, Kim merely sat there, holding Kate tightly while she cried on Kim's shoulder, rocking her gently and whispering soothing nonsense into her hair. If a few tears of her own trickled out, no one was the wiser, and they had stopped by the time Kate had finally cried herself out.

Kate sat up, wiping at her eyes, and gave her cousin a watery attempt at a smile. "Sorry," she sniffled. "Didn't mean to break down on you."

"Honey, please, what are mostly-sisters for?" The two women laughed at their childhood nickname for each other. Kate's phone rang again, and she silenced it again without even looking at it. "You know you can't avoid him forever," Kim said softly. "Seems like he's pretty desperate to get in touch with you."

"Yeah, well he can stay desperate," Kate replied. "I'm not talking to him." She shook her head. "I was _there_, Kim. The words were actually coming out of my mouth. And then _she_ showed up, and they weren't just going off for the weekend; they were going off for the _entire summer._" She sniffled, hiccupped, shuddered. "You have no idea… It hurt so bad, I thought I was going to die. I literally couldn't breathe for a second when she said that."

Kim nodded. "You're still gonna have to talk to him eventually."

"Not if I can help it." She silenced her phone again, making a face, her tone turning bitter. "He must have finally gotten out of bed long enough to play XBOX."

Kim's brow furrowed. "Lost me on that one."

"He plays XBOX with Esposito and Ryan," Kate explained. "He must have gotten on today and they told him about me being shot."

"Ah. And you're not feeling charitable enough toward him right now to let him know you're not dead."

"Bingo." Kate silenced her phone again. "Let him wonder." Then she snorted softly. "I'm surprised she hasn't made him stop by now."

Privately, Kim was as well; from what Kate had told her, this Gina person had to know that Kate was someone Rick was at least interested in. Were she in Gina's place, she would have serious problems with her lover spending all afternoon making frantic phone calls to another woman he was attracted to, shot or not. There was more to this story; she was sure of it. But now wasn't the time to try and push Kate for more details; that would come later. Now was the time to be there, be supportive, and hold her cousin while she cried.

As the sky was growing dark, they arrived back at Kim's apartment. Kate was mentally and physically exhausted and her shoulder was hurting, so she took a pain pill and went to bed. Kim seated herself at her computer, staring thoughtfully at the screen and wondering what she ought to do. The wisest course, at least as far as personal safety went, was to do nothing and remain firmly in Kate's corner against the Bad Almost-Boyfriend. But there was more to the story, and it was not in Kim's nature to leave stones unturned in a search for truth; that was part of what was making her dissertation so damned hard to write.

As she sat there, her fingers lightly stroking the home row of her keyboard and her brain running at ninety miles per hour, her own cell phone lit up and buzzed at her. She didn't recognize the number, though the area code was New York City. Curious, she flipped the phone open. "Hello?"

"_Is this Kim Wilder?"_

"Yes… Who's this?"

"_My name is Lanie Parish. You don't know me, but I'm a friend of your cousin Kate. Are you in a place where we can talk for a few minutes?"_

Kim felt her eyes widen. "Yeah. Hang on." She stood, grabbed her soda, and walked out onto the balcony, shutting the heavy glass door behind her. "I think she's asleep, but I came outside just in case. You want to share something with me about what's going on with this writer guy?"

"_Girl, do I ever."_

After hanging up with Lanie, Kim sat on her balcony for a long time, staring up at the sky. There were really relatively few options at this point. Doing nothing still remained the safest, for purely selfish reasons. But Kate had been through so much. She really deserved to be happy. And if Kim could help with that… Taking a deep breath, she opened her phone again and dialed the number Lanie had given her.

It rang several times, and Kim thought it was going to go to voice mail. At last, though, it was answered by a cautious male voice. _"Hello?"_

"Is this Richard Castle?" Kim asked.

"_It is. May I ask who's calling?"_

Kim took a deep breath. "Being a writer, Mr. Castle, I assume you're familiar with the term _deus ex machina_?"

"_Of course,"_ Castle replied, clearly confused. _"What's this about?"_

"Well, Mr. Castle, I think you're about to get yours. Lanie Parish gave me your number and suggested that I should call you; she seems to think we have a lot to talk about. My name is Kim Wilder. I'm Kate Beckett's cousin."


	3. Chapter 3

"_My name is Kim Wilder. I'm Kate Beckett's cousin."_

Rick felt his breath come short at those words. "Do you know where she is? I've been trying to find her."

"_I'm aware, Mr. Castle,"_ the woman on the other end of the line replied, sounding slightly amused and a lot like Kate. _"Your constant calling this afternoon was actually kind of annoying, since we were trying to have a conversation at the time."_

Rick felt the air go out of him in a rush as he realized this woman not only knew where Kate was, but was actually _with_ Kate. "Please," he said as soon as he could manage words. "Call me Rick."

"_Okay, Rick,"_ Kim replied. _"I'd like to hear your side of the story."_

Rick sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I'm not sure where to start," he confessed.

"_How about the beginning?"_ Kim suggested. Rick heard the faint _flick_ of a cigarette lighter and a slow inhale. _"It's usually a good place."_

Rick laughed softly. "The trouble is, I'm not sure where the beginning is. I could start all the way back when I first met her…"

"_Please don't. That story took all afternoon the first time I heard it, and that was just after you started calling today. Just… start with this Demming guy. She didn't make a lot of sense when she was talking about him, but it wasn't really the right time to push for details."_

Rick nodded. "Demming's a robbery detective. He worked a case with us a few weeks before… everything happened." He paused, gritted his teeth, and attempted to be evenhanded. "He's a decent guy; opens doors, pulls out chairs, coaches youth basketball. Really white teeth."

Kim laughed softly. _"Kate always has liked the pretty boys. So, what, he stepped on your toes?"_

"Well, the thing is… technically, I don't have toes to step on in this situation. We're not together. And she's been fairly adamant that we never will be." Rick stood, moving into the kitchen to pour himself a drink. "But there's something there. I know there is." He took a drink, listening to Kim take a drag off her cigarette. "So I asked her to come to the Hamptons with me for Memorial Day."

"_Right, but she was going somewhere with Demming."_

"Yeah." Rick all but spat the word out. "And she gave me this speech about how she didn't want us to be awkward now that she and Tom were _together_." He knew the venom in his voice must be audible over the line, but he didn't care. "So I said fine. She wants her little boyfriend in Robbery, she can have him. But I needed to get away. I can do a lot of things – I can put up with a lot of things. But I don't have it in me to stand there and watch _that_."

"_I don't blame you,"_ Kim said softly. _"So then what happened?"_

Rick shrugged. "I talked to my ex-wife, who also happens to be my publisher, and mentioned that I was going to spend the summer in Southampton getting the book done. She asked if I had company, and I said no, and she… kind of invited herself along. Gina and I don't get along very well, but occasionally we connect, and for whatever reason, that night on the phone, we did. So I figured what the hell, at least I won't be completely by myself; I'll have somebody to talk to. Or, knowing Gina, somebody to fight with. So I let her come."

"_I see."_

"She was going off with Demming! They were _together_. What was I supposed to do, sit around and hope for them to break up? And then the next thing I know, I'm making a toast at the wedding reception and standing as godparent to the first baby?"

Kim's voice was a bit sharp when she replied. _"I wasn't making a judgment, Rick. I just said 'I see.' And I do; I've been there. Just… calm down and tell me what else happened."_

Rick took a deep breath and drained his drink. "They had a little going-away party for me at the precinct. She came in and asked if I had a second. We went out in the hallway and she started… I don't know. It was strange. She said something about knowing she wasn't easy to get to know, but she'd had a lot of fun the last year. And then she started to say something else, but Gina interrupted. I asked her what it was she was going to say, but… her whole demeanor changed. And she shook my hand and said 'have a great summer,' and I said 'you too,' and we left."

Kim blew out a long, slow breath. _"And shortly thereafter, went out and tried to get herself killed. I swear to God, if she wasn't shot, I'd beat her senseless."_

Rick laughed softly. "For what it's worth, I've talked to Ryan and Esposito. She wasn't trying to get herself killed; she was just overworking herself. She does that sometimes."

"_Yeah, tell me about it. After her mom died, she –"_ Kim's voice broke off abruptly, and there was a grinding sound through the phone. _"Hey,"_ Rick heard her say, but it was obvious she wasn't talking to him. _"What are you doing up? I figured you'd be done for the night."_

"_Couldn't sleep," _ Rick heard Kate say, and his heart clenched hard. Then he blinked at the next words he heard her speak. _"What are you doing? It smells like pot out here."_

"_Talking to a friend and invoking my Fifth Amendment rights," _Kim replied, and Rick fought not to laugh. _"Are you hungry? I'm starved."_ Her voice came back to the mouthpiece. _"Hey, listen, Matt, I'm gonna let you go for now. I'll call you tomorrow or something, okay?"_

"Kim," Rick said softly, hoping his voice wouldn't carry through the phone to Kate, "please. I'll be on the first flight wherever you are. I need her."

"_You bet. Later, dude."_ The line clicked and went dead, and Rick sighed, leaning forward and putting his head on the counter. So close. She was so damn close.

Kate watched her cousin dig through her kitchen cabinets. "I can't believe I don't have any chips," Kim was muttering. Then she turned to the refrigerator and opened it. "Ooh! Bacon!" She pulled out a fresh package of bacon. "Want a bacon and cheese sandwich?"

"How high are you right now?" Kate asked, a slight smile creasing her face.

"Ooh," Kim exclaimed, as though she hadn't even heard. "I bet they'd be _awesome_ with peanut butter."

"That high, huh?" Kate shook her head. "I thought you quit smoking."

"Yeah, but then I started back to school and, well, what can I say?" Kim shrugged and grinned. "I've got more, if you want to smoke a bowl."

"Kim! I'm a _cop_."

"You know, you never used to be this much of a tightass." Kim grinned. "Relax, I'm teasing. I know you can't smoke. Do you want a bacon sandwich, though? Seriously?"

"Sure," Kate agreed, seating herself at the tiny kitchen table. "But not with peanut butter."

"There's mayo." Kim lit the gas burner on the stove and started laying bacon strips in a frying pan.

"So, who's Matt?" Kate asked.

Kim grinned. "Just this guy I've been talking to."

"Oh? Is he cute?"

"I would go so far as to say he's pretty scrumptious, actually," Kim replied. "Big shoulders."

"Bodybuilder?"

"Ugh, no. Just, you know, I think maybe he works out." Kim put the pan on the fire. "I don't know him very well yet, but he seems like a nice guy."

"Have you slept with him?" Kate asked knowingly.

"No," Kim replied with total honesty. "I don't know him that well yet." _Or ever, if you have anything to say about it._ She smirked at her own internal commentary and turned the bacon.

Sunday morning, when she emerged from her bedroom, Kim found Kate sitting at her computer. "Hey," Kate greeted her. "How far is it to Nashville from here?"

Kim shrugged. "Couple hours. You wanna go?"

"Actually, yeah, if you have the time." She glanced up as Kim leaned over her shoulder, then pointed at the screen. "I'd love to go see this."

"Oh, the Parthenon. Sure. Actually, that would be great; I've been needing to get up to the library at Vandy. They have some stuff I need to look at that we don't have. The Parthenon's really close to there."

"Vandy?"

"Vanderbilt University," Kim clarified. "If you don't mind spending a couple hours in the library with me…"

"Not at all." Kate stood. "Let me get dressed; we don't want to spend our whole day driving."

Kim never got a chance to call Rick back that day; she and Kate stayed joined at the hip all day long, so there was never a moment alone. She was okay with that on one hand; there was nothing wrong with letting the man sweat. It would make him appreciate her more when she finally coughed up her address. On the other hand, it was also prolonging Kate's hurt as well, which Kim didn't like as much. But there was no help for it, so she resigned herself to waiting and enjoyed the chance to go sightseeing with her favorite cousin.

Around seven on Monday morning, Kate decided to stay home while Kim went in to work. "I'm still beat after yesterday," she admitted. "I think I'll just stay here and read."

Kim nodded, shouldering her messenger bag and picking up her keys. "If you decide you want to go for lunch, give me a call; I'll come get you."

"Sure." Kate watched Kim go, then grabbed blanket and book and settled in on the couch.

As soon as she was out of her apartment's parking lot, Kim grabbed her cell phone and dialed New York. Rick answered on the first ring. _"Kim?"_

"Hey. Sorry about yesterday; we went sightseeing and I never had a chance to call you."

"_No, it's okay."_ Rick paused and took a deep breath. _"Please. Please tell me where I can find her."_

"I will tell you," Kim replied, "on one condition."

"_Anything."_

"When you get here, you make it extremely clear to her exactly how you feel. No jokes, no games, no flirty little eye-batting moments. You lay it out there on the line, and you make sure she understands that there's nobody else besides her. Make sure she gets that the ex-wife is still ex and is gonna stay ex. Make sure there aren't any doubts in her mind. Can you do that? Because if you can't, I'm not telling you jack."

"_I can, and I will. I swear it."_

Kim took a deep breath. "All right," she said. "Got a pen?"

After assuring Kim that he didn't need to be picked up at the airport, Rick hung up the phone and immediately dialed another number. The first flight to Knoxville didn't leave until nearly noon; a charter could be arranged for nine-thirty a.m. Rick confirmed the charter, gave his credit card information, and raced into his bedroom to cram clothing into an overnight bag. He was out the door by seven forty-five and standing in the airport terminal waiting for his flight before nine. He was sure that his pacing must be making other passengers either nervous or annoyed, but he couldn't help it; he couldn't sit down. He had too much nervous energy. In just a few hours, Kate would be in his arms, and he was going to tell her exactly how he felt, make sure that she understood that he loved her and only her.

Soon.

When he was called for his flight, he nearly bowled an airline employee over as he ran for the gate. As soon as the plane leveled, he was out of his seat, pacing again. The flight barely took three hours, but it seemed like forever before he was buckling himself back in for landing. He was off the flight as soon as the attendant opened the door for him, getting through the airport as quickly as he could without actually sprinting. A line of taxis waited outside the door and he jumped into the first one, reading the address to the driver. "Do you know where that is?"

"Sure," the man replied, his accent thick. "Just off the UT campus. Mostly college kids." He cast a knowing glance at Rick in the rearview mirror. "Your kid out there?"

"No," Rick replied. He reached for his wallet. "How long?"

"Eh. Ten minutes, maybe."

Rick held up a hundred dollar bill. "Make it five."

"You got it."

Five minutes later, Rick was standing in front of a door marked 328, his stomach in knots. Kate was on the other side of this door. He could practically smell her cherry body wash. He took a deep breath, resting one hand on the door, and swallowed hard. Then he knocked.

A dog went crazy inside, yapping and jumping at the door, but there was no other sound. Rick waited a moment before knocking again. From somewhere inside, he heard Kate's voice. "Just a second!" He waited, his heart in his throat. Finally, he heard the deadbolt turn, and the door opened.

The first thing he saw was her eyes, staring up at him in absolute, dumbfounded shock. Her mouth worked as though she wanted to say something, but she had no words. He stepped forward, pushing the door open all the way and reaching out to lay a hand on her cheek. "I love you," he said softly. "I love you, and I want to be with you. I don't want to just follow you around any more; I want to take you out, and keep you in, and hold you and kiss you and make love to you. I don't want to have to bite my tongue while you kiss all the Demmings and Sorensens, and I don't want you to have to bite your tongue when you see me with the Merediths and Ginas." He stared into her wide eyes, and he smiled slightly. "I love you."

She burst into tears.

That was not the reaction he'd been expecting. He wasn't sure what he _had _been expecting, but that certainly wasn't it. He pushed the door shut behind him, dropped his bag on the floor, and took her in his arms, drawing her toward the couch. He sat down and pulled her into his lap, cradling her against him while she clutched at his jacket and sobbed against his shoulder. He rocked her gently, one arm wrapped around her back, the other cupping her head carefully, and he whispered soothing nonsense into her hair, occasionally dropping kisses against her forehead.

Finally her crying eased, and he moved his hand, gently wiping under her eyes with his thumb. "Better?"

She nodded, sniffling slightly. Then she wiped clumsily at her eyes with the back of her left hand. "How did you find me?"

He smiled slightly. "All I'm going to say is that we have friends who care about us more than we deserve."

"Kim called you."

"After Lanie called her, yes." Rick cradled her head against his shoulder again, loving the way she felt when she relaxed against him. "She wanted to hear my side of the story." He touched her under the chin, and she looked up at him. "You were right in what you said. Gina and I _don't_ get along. It took less than a week for me to remember why I divorced her in the first place, and a little more than a week after that to get her out of the house. I haven't even spoken to her since then. And I didn't sleep with her."

"I broke up with Tom," she whispered. "I broke up with Tom for you, and you left with her."

"I had no idea." He pressed his lips to her forehead again. "I swear, Kate, if I'd had even the faintest idea that you'd do that… but I thought you were happy with him. You didn't want us to be awkward."

"But I didn't want you to go!" Tears welled up in her eyes again and began to roll down her face. "I didn't want you to leave me!"

"How could I stay?" His voice was gentle. "Kate, I love you so much. I have loved you for… God, it seems like I've always loved you. It was killing me to stay and watch you be with him, and know that you'd never be with me. I was so sure I could make you happy, but I took a wrong turn somewhere, and I didn't think I was ever going to get the chance. And every time I turned around, he was there – touching you, or kissing you, or whispering in your ear. He was doing all the things I wanted to do, and I just had to watch." He shook his head. "I couldn't do it any more."

"You weren't going to come back, were you?"

He shook his head. "No."

Her eyes closed and she laid her forehead against his chest, her shoulders shaking. "Don't leave me," she whispered. "Please don't leave me."

"I won't leave you," he whispered back, holding her tightly. "I swear, Kate, I'll never leave you again."

She looked up at him, her eyes wet, and bit her lip. He could see the fear in her eyes, and he stroked her cheekbone with her thumb. "It's okay to say it," he whispered. "It'll be all right."

She swallowed. "I'm scared."

"Me, too," he admitted. "But we can be scared together."

She studied his face, and he opened himself to her, letting her see everything he felt: his fear and his love. She raised her hand, touching his cheek in something like wonder. Then she swallowed again and took a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you, too," he said softly. Then he leaned and, for the first time, he kissed her.

xxx

_Author's note: I do not ordinarily post my stories to this site, as a great deal of my work is rated MA/NC17. If you would like to read more of my work, please feel free to visit me at xdawnfirex-fic (dot) livejournal (dot) com._

_I appreciate any and all feedback._


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